Lancelot stalked forward through the cavern until he felt a pull towards a certain location. He followed it, although he was cautious about it until he reached a hole in the floor of the cavern. He looked down, facing its yawning mouth of pure, uninterrupted blackness. The draw was still there, like an invisible string trying to pull him down, down, down.

Lance started tipping over the edge slightly, rocks sloughing off from the ledge under him and dropping into the gaping void. The noise of the rocks falling shocked him out of his stupor and he stumbled backwards. The pull was getting stronger until it was making his mind go fuzzy but he powered through and turned around to run. He needed to get out of there before whatever was calling from that pit, maybe even the pit itself, took him and swallowed him whole.